ReOrientation
by Wolfemann
Summary: Sly decides to give Carmelita a birthday surprise that helps to answer a few questions she’s had lately – whether she likes it or not.


Re-orientation By: Jason Leisemann  
  
Disclaimers: Carmelita and Sly both belong to Sucker Punch Productions, as do all other story elements from "Sly Cooper and the Thievius Raccoonus." I'm not saying I own them (though I do hope to own a copy of the game one of these days), and I'm not making money off them, so no harm done, yes?  
  
Rika belongs to herself, but her creation is courtesy of Mike Charger. ^_^  
  
Pairings: Sly/Carmelita/Rika (OFC)  
  
Warnings: PG-13, Femslash (Carmelita/OFC), Het (Sly/Carmelita), Legalized (?) Prostitution  
  
Summary: Sly decides to give Carmelita a birthday surprise that helps to answer a few questions she's had lately - whether she likes it or not.  
  
~~~===~~~  
  
Inspector Fox tossed her purse onto the couch and plopped down with a sigh. Damn, it had been a long day - and it was all paperwork. She shrugged her jacket off, and removed the holster for her blaster, setting both off to the side to be put away later.  
  
"Unless a lead comes in on that damned raccoon," she muttered to herself as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She hadn't had a lead on Sly in days - hell, even Murray seemed to have disappeared. All she wanted was enough information to figure out where to go next - but it looked like he might have finally thrown her off his trail.  
  
"Not a chance in hell," she growled. The one black spot she had on her record was *not* going to get away from her if she had anything to say about it.  
  
Of course - there had been a few times when she could have caught him.. But a part of her couldn't stand the idea of taking advantage of the trust he'd shown her those handful of times. She had every right to slap her cuffs on him while he was sleeping.. But no. She'd catch him fair and square, like every other criminal.  
  
The phone rang next to her, startling her out of her reverie.  
  
"Inspector Fox speaking," she said, picking it up and hoping it was somebody from the office with good news.  
  
"Mademoiselle Fox? It's Monsieur LeGrave." The landlord. Oh well, at least he wasn't likely to have bad news for her.  
  
"Yes, Philippe?"  
  
"I wanted to make sure you were home, Mademoiselle - do you have company, or would you mind if I brought up a small package for you?"  
  
"Bring it up, Philippe," she smiled, hanging up and moving over to the door to unlock it. She wasn't sure what he'd be bringing up - but it was nice of him to call ahead.  
  
"Not like I ever have anybody up here with me," she thought, somewhat ruefully. A few minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the door, and she opened it to the elderly rabbit that owned the building.  
  
"Pour vous, Mademoiselle," he smiled, offering her a bottle of wine. "Heureuse anniversaire." She chuckled slightly, and took the bottle.  
  
"Thanks, Philippe. And thank you for remembering. I'd almost forgotten it was my birthday." She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  
  
"And for that, Mademoiselle," he winked, "I would have gladly brought two bottles, if I hadn't been worried about dropping them on the way up." She laughed brightly, her foul mood from earlier mostly gone now.  
  
"Then I'd just have to give you two kisses," she grinned. "Thanks again. Would you like to come in, have a glass?"  
  
"Ah, I'm afraid not - my wife will probably give me no end of trouble about your lipstick as it is," he chuckled. "Au revoir, Mademoiselle Fox - I hope you enjoy what's left of your birthday."  
  
"I'm sure I will. Au revoir, Philippe. And if your wife gives you trouble, then just send her to see me, I'll make sure she knows what happened."  
  
"I'll do that," he smiled, before giving a slight bow and walking down the hall as Carmelita returned to her seat, looking at the label on the bottle. She nodded as she reached into the small cabinet by her couch, pulling out a corkscrew and a glass. The latter she sat on the cabinet, and then she set about opening the bottle and pouring herself a glass.  
  
"Only one glass," an infuriatingly familiar voice asked from her patio window. Her head turned reflexively to face the slender raccoon she'd been worried about catching just a few minutes before, and she grabbed for her blaster - only to find it wasn't there.  
  
"So sorry about having to relieve you of that, my dear," Sly chuckled ruefully as he held up his cane, the large gun hanging from the end of it, "but I didn't want you trying to shoot me before I could even wish you a happy birthday."  
  
"So you've wished me one," she growled back. "So why don't you come over here and let me cuff you, save me the trouble of having to shoot you?"  
  
"Come now, Carmelita - is it really too much to want to be able to take a dear friend out on her birthday?"  
  
"No - but the last time I checked, you were still one of the most wanted thieves in the world."  
  
"The most, if I remember right," he smirked proudly. "Though I've explained all that to you before, for what good it does. Not that my record should make any difference, given the situation. After all - you're not on the clock anymore."  
  
"We're not friends," she half-snarled at him.  
  
"I know," he sighed after a moment, before the mischievous glint came back to his eyes. "But I've got your present all picked out, and I want to be sure you see it before you turn it down."  
  
"Unless it's you in a jail cell," she muttered, deciding to take a sip of her drink to try and calm herself down a little, "I'm not interested."  
  
"Well, it might involve cuffs," he winked, "but probably not me in them, at least not for long."  
  
"Just what do you have planned," she asked warily, trying to come up with some way she could get her gun and catch him, with the positions everything was in. With the patio open behind him, he'd probably be long gone before she could even reach him.  
  
"Well, that depends on whether or not you're interested in dinner at this nice little café down near the Arc d'Triomphe first," he smiled. "My treat?"  
  
"I ate at the office," she muttered. Damn, it was hard to stay mad at him. Especially when he was trying to be nice and wasn't in the middle of a crime.  
  
Except for breaking into her house, but.that was another matter, at the moment.  
  
"Well, we don't have to go to dinner if you don't want to - though it is a nice place, maybe some other time. I was thinking of maybe taking you to a certain after-hours haunt of yours I know about, introducing you to a friend of mine there." She frowned for about half a second as she tried to figure out what he meant, then blushed as it dawned on her.  
  
"And what makes you think I'd go there with you?"  
  
"It's for your own good as much as a present, Carmelita," he said seriously. "I'm willing to push the issue if I have to."  
  
"Good luck pulling that off," she growled. "I am *not* going there with *you*."  
  
"So you feel more comfortable going to the Club on your own than with a friend? I thought you knew better than that, Carmelita," he sighed.  
  
"I told you before - I'm not your friend."  
  
"Then I guess you shouldn't be too surprised when I do this," he shrugged, tossing her blaster and his cane off to the side. She followed them with her eyes for a split second before she realized her mistake, and turned just in time to see Sly launch into a graceful aerial somersault over her head. She turned to face him, just in time to feel his fingers close around a spot on her neck. Just a moment later, she collapsed into his arms, completely oblivious to what would follow..  
  
~~~===~~~  
  
When Carmelita came to, she was laying on a small cot in a dimly lit room. She didn't know how she got there - but she did know who was responsible.  
  
"Where the hell am I," she growled at the room, knowing that there'd be somebody there to answer her.  
  
"In the back room of Le Miaou de la Chat," Sly's voice answered casually. She flipped her dark blue hair up out of her eyes as her vision adjusted, and she saw him sitting next to her. So he hadn't been joking when he mentioned knowing her after-hours haunts. Not that she was going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.  
  
"And just what do you plan on doing with me here," she growled, "selling me to the proprietors?"  
  
"Why do you have to be so stubborn," he sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Don't bother answering that, I already know the reason. By the way - sorry I had to knock you out to get you here, but you didn't seem to be too interested in going peacefully otherwise."  
  
"Maybe because I don't want to go to a strip joint with you?"  
  
"It's safer than going alone, particularly to *this* strip joint," he pointed out. "Hell, going with *Bentley'd* be safer than going alone. Between the reports you have to have on this place, and the fact that you've been coming here practically every other day for the past month, I'd think you'd know that by now."  
  
"How the hell did you know about that," she snapped at him, just before she realized that she'd just admitted it was true.  
  
"Easy - first time I spotted you here, I was visiting an old friend. Figured you were undercover, so I didn't say anything, just decided to keep a discreet eye on you so your temper didn't get you into trouble. As much as I love your fiery demeanor, most of the people around here would be more likely to take offense - and *then* you'd have to worry about being sold to somebody who'd see to it you didn't show up in Paris for a long, long time."  
  
"I can take care of myself," she muttered.  
  
"Normally, yes - but not when you're distracted," he said bluntly. "And you're getting distracted more and more easily, and not just when you're in the club."  
  
"How do you know about that?"  
  
"Like I said," he shrugged, "I've been keeping an eye on you. Whatever you think of me, I do care about you, and I don't like the idea that you'll be getting hurt."  
  
"So what are we doing here now? An object lesson in why I shouldn't be here on my own?"  
  
"Actually, we're here to take care of a good portion of the reason you're distracted," he smirked. "And please don't play dumb with me, Carmelita, we both know that you know better than that."  
  
"What, you hired one of the guys who works here to give me a sympathy-lay? No thanks," she muttered darkly.  
  
"Come now - you don't remember the familiar waiter the other day? Of course, you were rather distracted - your scent told me that much." She thought back, and realized that she had noticed the waiter was a raccoon. She'd just been too busy watching the show to really care..  
  
"You caught me watching Rika's show," she asked softly, hoping that he'd say no, that he'd noticed her before or after - when it was a man on the stage.  
  
"And I could have smelled you three tables away," he shrugged apologetically. "Not that I can blame you - she's a hell of a woman."  
  
"I'm not a lesbian," the lean vixen snapped.  
  
"Believe me," he winked, "I know. But that's what's got you bothered, isn't it? Trying to figure out why you're getting turned on by another woman?"  
  
"Yeah," she admitted. "Why I came here."  
  
"You've been thinking of trying to hire Rika for a night," he nodded, "see if you actually like sex with another woman. Right?"  
  
"I guess," she shrugged.  
  
"Come on, Inspector," he smiled at her. "There's nothing wrong with it - or with not being able to take that walk back stage to talk to her or one of her people, for that matter."  
  
"So why are we here again?"  
  
"I took the walk for you," he winked, then suddenly became more serious. "If you don't want to do this, all you have to do is say so. But I thought it would be best if I took the chance that you were only holding back because you weren't sure about taking those steps yourself."  
  
"Thank you *so* much for your concern," she said icily. "So now I should add rape, kidnapping, and unlawful restraint to your rap sheet?" He flinched as if she'd struck him bodily at that, and she almost immediately regretted it.  
  
"Kidnapping maybe," he responded. "But it's only unlawful restraint if we keep you here when you want to leave - and I already told you it stops when you say it does. Same thing with the rape. I'm not a monster, Carmelita - I just steal from them."  
  
"Oh, so that's why you knocked me out and hauled -"  
  
"I already told you the reason I brought you here," he said, interrupting her. "Do you want to go through with this, or not? If you do, all you have to do is come back into Rika's room with me. If not, say so and it stops here." She was quiet for a moment, and he could almost feel the conflicting feelings inside of her.  
  
"What happens if I follow you back there?"  
  
"We go to one of the private rooms, meet Rika, and the two of you spend as much time together as *you* are comfortable with. She's noticed you in the crowd, doesn't have any problems with it. If you want her to stop whatever she's doing, at any point, she'll have a safe word for you to use."  
  
"I should skin you for doing this," she muttered, standing up.  
  
"Does that mean you'll be following," he asked with a smirk.  
  
"I guess it does," she said softly, as he stood and started back, with her following closely behind him. 


End file.
